Lie To Save Your Soul, You Sinner
by venomoxide
Summary: House is put on a case regarding a younger man, Robert Chase, who is clutching his rosary beads for dear life. Usually, House avoids patients at all costs because they 'all lie.' Is Father Preston an exeptance? WARNINGS-HousexChace/Rape/Lemons
1. God, I'm Sick

**Hello my fellow House lovers!  
This is my first House fanfiction... Boy, am I excited. :3  
H'anyways.  
So here we have a slightly alternate universe where Chase is a patient, not a doctor working for House.**

**M'kay? Still with me?  
H'okay. Good.  
Sooo, Chase is Catholic.  
Anddd, don't try to figure out what he has, because it's imaginary. As in, not real. As in, I have noo idea what it is..  
I just had to make up an sickness to fit.  
MWUAHAHAHA.  
Ha.**

**DISCLAIMER - I do not own House or any of the characters mentioned here.  
This is slash. Meaning boy on boy action.  
Meaning GAY SEX. YAY!  
-cough-  
Don't say I didn't warn you.  
Also, it will later on deal with some sensitive issues such as self harm and rape. :D**

**OKAY, READ ON AWESOME PEOPLE.**

House sat at his desk, legs propped up as he watched his soap. "Too many pickles..." he muttered, tossing the sandwich he had stolen from Wilson back onto the plate. With a small sigh, he turned his small, pocket sized TV off and stretched. It had been awhile since he had gotten an interesting case... leaving him stuck with way too much clinic duty for his liking.

Grabbing his cane off his desk, he rose and made his way into the conference room, wondering what Foreman and Cameron were up to. Foreman was reading the paper and sipping coffee, sitting opposite of Cameron. She was trying to scrape a coffee stain off the table with her fingernail. Both of them looked incredibly and utterly bored.

Looking up as he walked into the room, Cameron smiled, her eyes hopeful. "Is there a new case?" She asked, obviously trying to mask the excitement. Foreman stopped reading at the hint of something to do, raising his gaze to House with interest.

"Yes!" He cried, walking over to the coffee maker, pouring himself some coffee before continuing. "It's life or death, really." Turning to face them, he took a sip, waiting for them to pry for more. "Well...?" Foreman probed after a few moments of silence, leaning forward slightly.

"It's very puzzling..." Just as he was about to make a snide remark about how his only two workers were wasting precious time, Wilson popped his head into the room, a worried expression creasing the skin above his eyebrows. "House," he said, a tone of urgency present. "We need you guys." With that, he gestured for them to follow him before he ran down the hall.

Without a word, the three of them stood and started down the hall, Foreman and Cameron lagging a little so that House could keep up with them. The room Wilson was standing in front of, waiting for them, was only a little ways down the hall. "I thought you might find this case interesting..." Wilson said as House approached, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

It didn't look like there was a flurry of activity, indicating that a patient was in trouble. In fact, no one else seemed to be rushing to do anything. "I thought you said that you needed our help," Foreman frowned, looking around for signs of a dying patient.

"I do." Wilson replied simply, leading them into the room. "A boy came in today after seizing in his Church's mass hall. No signs of a tumour, cancer, vasculitis or any infection that would cause him to seize. His MRI was clean; blood is still at the lab and tox. screen hasn't come back yet."

House listened as Wilson explained the boys' symptoms, his lips pursed slightly in thought. Walking over to the blonde haired boy, he sighed, noticing that he was asleep. "Sleeping at a time like this..." He muttered, shaking his head at his team before he took his cane and pinged it against the metal of the bed. With a start, the boy shot up into sitting position, almost ripping out his breathing tube.

"House!" Cameron cried angrily, rushing over to the confused looking man. "I'm sorry, he can be a little..." She was cut off by House. "It's his fault for sleeping. Now, feeling sick lately? Throwing up? Nausea?" He questioned, staring down at the still confused boy as he leaned on his cane.

"Um, no. Nothing at all." The boy replied with a slight hint of an Australian accent. "I haven't even eaten anything in the past week." When House gave him a weird look, he tried to explain. "I'm on a spiritual fast. I'm Catholic..."

"Hm." House popped his lips, walking slowly over to the front of the boys' bed. "Robert Chase." He read out loud after picking up the chart full of information on his patient. "Do any drugs?" He asked after a few moments of reading.

"No! Of course not!" Chase cried, sitting up carefully. "I've never done drugs in my life." Giving him a disbelieving look, House shrugged. "Patients always lie."  
"House!" Cameron cried again, looking him incredulously. "He said he wasn't, why would he lie about something like that?"

Just in time to interrupt House, an older man rushed into the room, looking worriedly at Chase. "Are you alright, son?" He asked, placing his hand on Chase's head. Looking up at the man, Chase blinked a few times before looking away and answering in a quiet voice. "Yes, Father Preston. I'll be just fine."

Raising an eyebrow at the unexpectedly cold reaction from the blonde, House turned his eyes towards the man. "I take it you are the… priest?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "How cute. I'll leave you two to mingle." Turning to his two co-workers, he shot them a confused glare. "Why aren't you going?! To the conference room, run ducklings, run!"

* * *

**Uhhhhhhh. Yeah.  
Sorry if it was le short. But I am le tired.  
-french accent of doom-**

**But yuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh.  
XD  
Give me hate, give me love, JUST GIVE ME A DAMN REVIEW.  
Or I will send a Vicaden deprived House after you. With a deadly cane of doom. :D**


	2. Catholics Shouldn't Lie

**Hello all!  
I got some lovely reviews that made me verry happy.**

**Same warnings as before, children.  
Also, a question was asked.  
How old is Chase in this story?  
Around 18-19-20 ish? I haven't actually decided.  
:D**

**Read on...**

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" Cameron questioned, standing by the white board, her arms crossed. After rushing back to the conference room, House limped over to the window, a calculating expression on his face. Both Foreman and Cameron were waiting to hear some crazy idea that would most likely end up being right.

Taking a deep breath, House turned to face the pair. "Of course! He's sick.... Are you sure you're a doctor?"

Shooting him an annoyed glare, she sighed and sat down, giving him the 'I Don't Have Time For Your Sarcasm, Just Tell Me What's Wrong With The Patient' look. "Oo, she means business!" He cried leaning his cane against the white board before grabbing a marker and biting the top off with his teeth. Scribbling a word on the board, he turned to them with an expectant look.

"Depression?" Foreman said incredulously after a few moments of silence. "You think that everything can be explained by _depression_?" Cameron didn't look convinced either.

"No, that would be too simple. I think it's a certain kind of depression," he paused, taking a sip of coffee, "A type of depression that builds up over time and eventually..."

"Becomes overwhelming to the body." Foreman finished, nodding slowly, "But, what would cause him to be depressed? He seems fine and..."

"Abuse?" Cameron suddenly questioned, looking from House to Foreman with a worried expression. "Verbal or physical abuse could cause someone to suppress depressed feelings, mixed with fear if the person is close to them... it could easily cause damaging strain on a person."

"Not to mention, he said he hasn't eaten in a week," Foreman continued after Cameron, "Lack of nutrients could cause him to be mentally weaker and a little less stable. It could have triggered the seizure if he had been depressed for long enough."

Both of them looked to House, waiting to hear his opinion with eager faces. Taking another deep breath, House nodded. "Excellent. Start him on B-12 and vitamins to help with the whole not eating thing and for the..." He paused, cocking his head to the side for a moment in thought.

"Depression? Anti-depressants?" Foreman offered.

"No. Just start him on the vitamins," House said, waving his hand in dismissal. "Don't do anything about the depression yet."

Shrugging, the two stood to go and give the boy a series of vitamins, exchanging confused glances on their way out the door. House frowned slightly and went to his office, turning on some opera music before settling down in his chair to think.

--  
A few hours later, House stood in front of Robert Chase's bed, reading his chart for the second time that day. "Hey," he said, poking the boys' leg with his cane, "Church boy."  
Stirring from his sleep, Chase rubbed one of his eyes tiredly. "Oh, Dr. House. I wanted to thank you for the medicine it really..."

Holding up one of his hands, House signalled for him to stop talking. "No problem. We get a lot of patients that don't eat for a week. It's_ completely_ normal. Now, I just have one question. Are you depressed?" He asked casually, moving to sit down on one of the rolling chairs. "Feeling a little blue lately?"

"No, not at all." Chase replied, propping himself up on the pillows with a confused expression. "Whenever I feel discouraged, I pray."

Staring blankly at him for a few moments, House tapped his cane on the tile, his lips pursed slightly. "Right. Of course, silly me. With God, you'll never be sad!" He eventually said, smiling humorously, "Boy, why do we even have anti-depressants?"

Giving him an odd look, Chase opened his mouth to say something, not sure if House was kidding or not. "I... um..."

"But seriously," House cut him off again, his smile gone. "Don't lie to me; I can always tell when someone is lying. Usually I wouldn't care why you're depressed, I would just get my two ducklings to pop you some happy pills and kick you out the door. But for some reason I actually want to know – why. Why are you depressed, Chase? I hope you don't mind if I call you that..."

Again, Chase opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by House as he stood up and walked slowly to the other side of the room as he talked. "Feeling like the Church isn't the way anymore? Losing sight of the Great Almighty? Why... And don't lie this time."

Looking over at House with slightly overwhelmed blue eyes, Chase's mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was searching for words that didn't want to be found. "He's not depressed." A voice came from the doorway.

The two of them looked over to see Father Preston, the priest that is advising Chase, walk in, a caring smile on his lips. "This is simply a test of his faith," he continued, looking down at the Aussie with a loving look. "Isn't that right, Chase?"

Nodding slowly, Chase breathed a quiet, "Yes."

Rolling his eyes, House watched as the priest pulled something out of his pocket before placing a hand on Chase's shoulder. "I brought your rosary beads. I thought you might want them..." Smiling weakly, Chase leaned forward so Father Preston could drape the beads onto his neck. Looking up just in time, Chase saw House limping out of the room.

--  
"Why did you page us?" Cameron questioned, already waiting for House in the conference room, a worried crease on her forehead. Looking to his two doctors, he raised his eyebrows in excitement. "I think Father Holy is the one to blame."

* * *

**Dun dun dunnnn!  
XD  
Review or you'll get a vicoden deprived doctor knocking at your door.  
:D**


	3. You Know What They Say About Priests

**Hello my lovely readers! Many thanks for reveiwing if you did so and reading this.  
Another great question was asked.  
How old are House/Cameron/Foreman?**

**House - 38 ish? Cameron - 32-ish? Foreman - 32-ish?  
XD  
I don't like to put an age on them because then you can picture them as old/young as you want.**

**Anyway, same warnings.  
Slash (maleXmale), Religious Views, Rape and Language.**

**Enjoy!**

"Father Holy?" Cameron questioned, frowning slightly as she sank slowly into one of the many chairs surrounding the glass table. "You mean Father Preston? Chase's advisor?" She leaned her chin on her hand, staring at House as he limped over to the coffee station, pouring himself a fresh cup.

"Yeah, that one." He agreed, leaning against the counter, watching for their reactions. With a small laugh, Foreman said, "He's been with the patient for years... How could he possibly cause a seizure when he's been around him for years?"

"Exactly," House suddenly interrupted, pointing his cane to Foreman. "He's been around him for years. You know what they say about Catholic priests..." He trailed off, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

It took a few moments before the two understood. With wide eyes, Cameron gasped, "No! No way... You think?" Looking from House to Foreman, the look in her eyes was full of disbelief. With a deep sigh, Foreman folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. "It makes sense."

Taking a long sip of coffee, House set his cup down loudly, drawing their attention back to him. "Alright! Now, who wants to go grill the poor Jesus lover?"

Giving him blank looks, neither of them said anything or dared move an inch. Questioning them with a look of 'Well?' he waited, glaring at them silently. One of them had to crack sooner or later. "I can't do it." Cameron finally cried, shooting House a look that said she was sorry before she stood and half walked, half ran out of the room.

Shifting his eyes to Foreman, House smiled his signature victorious smile. "Have fun!"

--

With a small, I'm-not-here-to-be-friends-I-just-want-to-ask-a-few-questions smile, Foreman stepped into Chase's room, closing the door behind him. Glancing over to his bedside, he suppressed a sigh. Of course the priest would be here.

"Excuse me," he said to Chase, flashing him yet another smile. Trying to pry sensitive information from patients was never one of Foreman's strong points. "I just have a few questions if you're feeling up to it."  
Nodding, Chase sat up slowly, propping himself up on the pillows behind him.

"Ask whatever you like," he replied, his voice a little tired. His blue eyes stayed fixed on the floor as his lanky fingers drifted up to the beads around his neck, fingering the small cross lightly. "Alright," Foreman sat, leaning forward slightly. "Is he asleep?" He questioned, referring to the other man sitting across the room.

"I think so, why?"

"It's just... you may want to have some privacy for these questions. We don't want your answers to be influenced by someone your close to."

With a small exhale of breath, Chase looked up at Foreman for the first time since they started talking. "It'll be fine. Ask away."

--

House was sitting lazily at his desk, spinning his cane skilfully with his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. "House," Foreman's voice caused him to look over with a blank expression. "There was a problem. First I asked him how his relationship with Mr. Preston was. Of course, he said it was fine. He was his spiritual advisor and nothing more. When I asked if he was sure, the stupid son of a bitch..." He trailed off, heaving a deep breath. "He woke up and demanded that I leave him alone."

House continued to stare at Foreman, his expression fading into a thoughtful one as he reached for his bottle of Vicoden and popped the cap. "Defensiveness?" He murmured around the pill before taking a swig of water. "Very interesting."

Without another word, he rose and started to make his way to the door, pausing to pat Foreman on the shoulder. "Good job."

When he reached Chase's room, he peeked through the flaps of curtain before entering, just to make sure the old man wasn't there. As he entered, Chase looked up at him with a startled expression. "I'm not answering anymore questions!" He suddenly said, looking away from House.

Leaning on his cane, he studied the boy for a few moments, quickly popping another pill – just for the hell of it. "What doesn't your almighty advisor not want us to know?" he asked, his brilliant knack for bluntness shining through.

"There's nothing..." Chase replied, his voice soft.

With a frustrated sigh, House limped to the other side of his bed. "Stop lying. It's not helping you and it's getting on my nerves. Tell me, what's going on with Mr. Priest? He say some mean things to you? Spill some Holy Water on your Bible? Threaten to damn you to Hell if you tell someone that he likes to touch little boys?"

Chase stayed silent, his eyes still fixed on the wall behind House. "No." He replied, his voice wavering slightly.

Scowling, House said angrily, "Look at me."

Chase's eyes faltered for a moment before his deep blue eyes rose to meet House's. "Now tell me that it's nothing."

With a soft, shaky exhale of breath, Chace's tongue darted out to run across his lips in a nervous reaction. "It's... nothing."

In a sudden burst of rage, House made a disgusted sound and smashed his cane onto the table near him. Chase jumped, his eyes wide as he stared at House, looking like a deer in head lights. "Oh, come _on_ already!" House cried, limping one step closer to the bed so that his legs were up against the edge. "Stop lying, for Christ sake!"

With one hand he leaned on the bed's railing, staring down at Chase with tired eyes. "Just tell me the truth. One simple thing to do. What did he do to you for so long... that it made you sick."

Under House's eyes, Chase wanted to look away, to escape their scrutiny but he couldn't. He stayed rooted to the spot, listening to him ask the same question over again. One he couldn't answer. His eyes fluttered shut as he whispered, "If I tell you... he'll kill me."

* * *

**Oh my!  
XD  
That can't be good, now can it.**

**Review! Or Cuddy will come and bust your ass!  
:D**


	4. Shut Up and Pray

**Hello all! Fourth chapter, obviously... Just felt like stating that.  
Oookay, I'll shut up. I'm a bit sleep deprived and have been out in the sun too long.  
(It's not good for teenagers like me who are used to sitting inside all day. I swear, I blinded everyone on that beach today with my pale flesh...)**

**Anyway, we almost have some steamyness going on!  
-gasps-**

**Ha, same warnings.  
MalexMale, Religious Veiw Things, Rape and SMUT. :D**

**Read on...**

"He'll... kill you." House repeated, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Speaking figuratively?" Something about Chase's expression told him that wasn't the case. Chase's eyes opened slowly, staring straight at House with a pleading expression.

"What's going on here?!" An angry voice cause House's grip to tighten on the side of the bed, hoping that he wouldn't pick up his cane and break the old man's nose. For a few moments, he and Chase stayed staring at each other. Chase's expression was one of fear – almost begging House not to mention anything. While House's was... well, it was House.

"I was inspecting his eyes." House said, turning to the priest with a nonchalant expression. Before the old man could get another word out, he shot Chase a frustrated look and limped out of the room.

--  
"You're off the case." Cuddy said, flipping through a pile of papers with a bored expression. House was standing in her office, staring at her with a scowl on his lips. "Why?!" He cried, reaching in his pocket to pill out his beloved bottle of Vicoden, popping another pill.

"You know exactly why!" She sighed, looking up from her papers before continuing. "The priest complained... He said you were assaulting the patient or something. I really didn't feel like arguing with someone about you. I'm done, House. Your. Off. The. Case."

They stared at each other; the familiar tension in the air was thicker than usual. "Fine," he finally grunted, turning around on his heel and making his way out the door. It wasn't usually that easy for House to give up but Cuddy ignored it, praying to God that he wouldn't do something _too_ stupid.

--

Later that night, House was throwing his ball against the wall, his emotions changing from anger to nonchalance to... drunkenness. One and a half bottles of tequila later, he had thought through plenty of ways to get into Chase's room, each one stupider than the next.

Finally, at about eleven o clock, he limped out into the hallway (a little clumsily, of course) and started his way to Chase's room, not quite sure what his exact plan was. When he slid the door shut, trying to keep it as quiet as possible, he looked over to the boy and almost laughed. For some reason the fact that he was sleeping was hysterical to him.

Stumbling slightly over to Chase's bedside, he stared down at his sleeping form. "Hey," he said loudly, causing Chase to stir. Rubbing his eyes, he frowned in the darkness as he recognized House. "Um... hi? Something wrong?"

"No, no," House waved a hand at him, staring down at Chase with an odd expression. A few nurses walked by the room, talking quietly to themselves, completely oblivious of House's presence. "Actually..." he started, glancing behind him to make sure that the nurses were gone. "We need to transfer you. So if you'll just come with me," he said, surprised at how quick he was thinking. Even for him, it was brilliant.

"Uh, why?" Oh. Well that wasn't part of the plan. "I don't see why I need to be..." Chase's voice was suddenly muffled by House's free hand. "Just listen, okay?"

Freezing under the sudden contact, it took a few moments for Chase to nod and silently swing his legs over the side of the bed. "But you have to be quiet." House continued, holding out a hand to stop Chase from going any farther. With slightly clumsy fingers, he pulled his breathing tube out of his nose and did the same with the IV in his arm.

"Come on!" He said, taking firm hold of Chase's arm. "Just tell me if you see anyone who looks angry."

--  
They were in the elevator, Chase glancing over nervously to House every few seconds. "Shouldn't there be... other doctors? Does Father Preston know that I'm being transferred? He left for the night... so I don't see how he would know. Did someone call him?" He took a deep breath, out of air from all the questions.

The elevator dinged, signalling that they were on the main floor. "Shut up." House said simply, waving at him to sit in the wheelchair he somehow managed to swipe. "Now look healthy."

Chase obliged, sitting in the chair just before the doors automatically opened and House started to wheel him past the main desk. "Excuse me, Dr. House?" The secretary called, eyeing him suspiciously. "I'm transferring him." House said, glancing over his shoulder as he continued to wheel Chase out the door. "Call Foreman. He'll do the paper work…" he managed to say before the door shut behind him.

"Shouldn't she know that I'm being transferred?" Chase questioned, shivering slightly from the cold air that hit him. Rolling his eyes, House ignored his question, pushing the chair through the parking lot to his car. "Get in." He said, pulling him up by the arm and pushing him towards the passenger side of his car.

What was his plan, really? Kidnap the kid and take him to his house… treat him there? He had no idea. All he knew was that he couldn't back out now. This could be fun anyway.

Chase frowned but listened to House anyway, pulling open the car door and sliding inside, a thankful smile on his face now that he was out of the cold. House got in and started the car, backing out of his spot before glancing over to Chase. "Put your damn seatbelt on."

Suddenly House realized he probably shouldn't be driving; almost two bottles of tequila and many more Vicoden probably wasn't the best mix. Hesitating, he peered through the windshield, determining whether or not he was sober enough to drive. "Something wrong?" Chase asked after a few moments of sitting idle in the parking lot.

"It's nothing." House said quickly, starting up again and driving out of the lot. His apartment was only a few blocks away – they would be fine.

"So…" Chase started, obviously uncomfortable with the silence. "Which hospital am I being transferred to? I don't even think that I'm sick… Shouldn't I really be going home?"

"Shut up." House said again, shooting Chase a condemning look. Closing his mouth promptly, Chase shrank into his seat silently and turned his head to stare out the window with a hurt expression.

So what was his plan…? He had the kid, the kid was away from crazy priest but now, now what was he supposed to do? Was he really going to just _take_ Chase? And do _what_ with him? His eyes flickered over to the Aussie, sizing him up for a moment. Hurt. Lacking self confidence. Overwhelmingly submissive. It was exactly House's type; and suddenly, he had a brilliant (and slightly maniacal) idea.

--  
"Where is this?" Chase suddenly asked, looking out at the street not too far away from the hospital. House had parked in his usual spot and was now undoing his seatbelt. Giving him an 'Are You Retarded?' look, he said, "The hospital… duh."

Despite the confused look on his face, Chase slowly undid his seatbelt and stepped out of the car, running to catch up to House as he was opening the main door. Silently, Chase followed House to his door, staring at the floor the whole time. After digging around in his pocket, House pulled out his keys and started to unlock his door.

"Wait, Dr. House." Chase said, his hand grabbing House's shoulder. "I'm not stupid, please; just tell me why you brought me here." They stayed like that for a few moments, with Chase's hand on his shoulder House's gaze on the door in front of him.

Slowly, House turned around, locking his eyes onto Chase's deep blues. He took a step forward, causing Chase to back up in response, into the wall behind him. "W-what?" Chase stuttered, unable to tear his eyes from House. "Shut up."

Dropping his cane where he stood, House brought his hands to the wall, staring at Chase with an intensity that made him take a shaky breath. Opening his mouth to say something again, House took the opportunity to lean forward and silence him with his lips.

* * *

**Riiight.  
Well... :D  
Review?!  
Or Cameron will... cry.  
Yeah, she'll CRY!  
You don't want to make her cry, do you?! HUH?!**


	5. Sunday Communion is Just a Touch Weaker

**Sorry if this one is a little short, I'm kind of tired today.  
T_T**

**Anywayy, same warnings.  
MalexMale, Rape, Religious Views and Smut! :D**

**Umm, yeahh. Thanks for reviewing to those of you who did. I love getting them. :3  
And and .. umm. Yeh.**

**Read on!**

Chase didn't move for a few seconds, too shocked to think clearly. House's lips moved against his own, kissing him roughly. A sound of protest was muffled in House's mouth as Chase's hands flew up, trying to push him away. With a strong grip, House grabbed his thin wrists and pinned them to the wall, biting down on the lush bottom lip.

A small moan of pain escaped Chase at the bite; he could taste blood already and could clearly taste the alcohol on his tongue. Suddenly, House pulled away but kept his grip on one of his wrists before bending down to pick up his cane and shoving the blonde into his apartment. Stumbling from the push, Chase turned to stare at House with a terrified expression. "Sit down," House said, pointing towards the couch. "And don't even think of trying to escape; this cane is deadlier than it looks."

Glancing at said object, Chase weighed his options. Even though the doctor was obviously crippled, that didn't mean he wasn't strong. So, with a small shiver of fear, Chase took the few steps to the couch and sank down onto the plush seat. While he was still getting over the fact that the other man had just kissed him, his eyes followed House as he limped over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of tequila.

With a loud thunk, he dropped the bottle in front of Chase and sat down beside him. "Drink," he said simply, giving him a look that dared him not to obey.

Despite the fact that he had never touched a drink in his life, Chase obliged, swallowing the lump in his throat with a swig of alcohol. The liquid burned his throat, causing him to cough when he should have taken a breath of air. "Oh, God!" He said in between gasps for breath.

"Take another," House commanded, the corner of his mouth threatening to give away the fact that he was trying not to laugh. "It'll get better. And make this easier." Mid-drink, Chase frowned, "What?" He coughed again, his eyes watering from lack of air.

Deliberately ignoring the question, he continued to talk. "Alright," House said, grabbing the bottle to take a small sip. "Now talk." At this, Chase frowned, oblivious as to what he was being asked.

"What do you want me to talk about?" His Australian accent was starting to become more prominent.

"Oh, I don't know," House said sarcastically, waving his hand a little dramatically, "The weather?" He took another sip, mentally making a note to save more for Chase – there was no way he was done drinking yet. He was hardly drunk enough. "Tell me about Father whatever his name is. But first, take another long drink..." Chase took the bottle again, staring at it for a few seconds before obeying. "Good, now talk."

"Well..." Chase started, circling one of his fingers around the top of the bottle slowly. "I grew up going to Church every Sunday and Monday, family tradition, you know. My mom was a single parent and after she died I felt like I needed to step up a little; become a better believer. I was about thirteen then... Father Preston was amazing, he talked with me, prayed with me; he even bought me my own rosary beads." Glancing up from the bottle, a sort of smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "He was like the father that I needed my whole life..." Chase's voice trailed off as he bit down on his lip, feeling the welt that House had given him with his tongue. "But one day I came to him and told him something that had been bothering me; something I was scared of. I confessed that I had been looking at other boys in my grade and that I found them attractive. He told me it was the worst sin of all and that I had to be punished." The next drink he took stung.

"And..." Chase started again; his voice was getting a little sluggish as the alcohol began to take effect. He stopped, though, not wanting to relive the next part of the story. From his reaction, House could guess what happened next.

"And..." Chase tried again, looking over to House with a panicked expression - he could feel an anxiety attack coming on as he tried to force the memory back. "Shut up." House said again, grabbing the bottle from him and bringing it to the Aussie's trembling lips. Swallowing the liquid thankfully, Chase tried to breathe normally.

The sound of the glass meeting the table brought his attention away from the floor and he almost gasped as House's hand latched onto the front of his shirt and he tugged, pulling Chase towards him. Their lips met again, the taste of booze was stronger than before.

Chase was hesitant for a moment; the mixture of House's tongue exploring his mouth and the beginnings of drunkenness was making it hard to think clearly. He didn't necessarily kiss back; he just opened his mouth father, letting the warm sensation of House's tongue against his wash over him. The skin on his cheeks flushed, either from the alcohol or the kiss, he couldn't tell.

House's grip tightened as he started to push Chase back into the couch, pulling away from the kiss to stare down at the boy lying underneath him – his lips slightly swollen and pinker from the roughness, his hair was lopsided and covering a bit of his right eye and finally, his eyes were wide, staring right back at House in confusion.

* * *

**:D  
Smut coming up!  
XD  
Give me a review or um... You'll have TWO WEEKS of clinic duty.  
Mwahahaha! XD**


	6. Get on Your Knees, Church Boy

**Oh snap!  
Lol.  
Thanks for the reviews, yall!  
They make me a happy person. :D  
Just like House's Vicoden!**

**XD**

**Same warnings, yada yada yada..  
Some sexy ChasexHouse, yo!  
LOL.  
Sorry, I'm hyper...**

**READ ON!**

Breathing hard, Chase glanced down at the fabric of his shirt, tangled in between the other man's fingers. House's knee was between his legs, helping his arm support him as he hovered over the younger boy. "Keep talking," House said quietly, letting go of the grip he had on the boys' shirt as his mouth met the smooth skin of Chase's cheek.

Trying to think straight, Chase started from where he had left off. "He said that if I told anyone," his breath hitched as House's lips grazed the nape of his neck, angling towards his Adams apple before grazing his teeth along the skin on his collarbone. "Keep going," House urged; his breath hot against Chase's neck.

Swallowing nervously, he tried to continue, "If I told anyone, I would never get to heaven and that God said it was ok for him to do that to me because it was the only way to repent my sins... Ow!" A sudden nip to his neck caused his hands to fly up, attempting to push House away again.

Swiftly, the doctor grabbed Chase's wrists and pinned them to the arm rest of the couch, staring down at him with a less than amused expression. "So I suppose if we put that logic into theory, God wouldn't be okay with any other man molesting you." House stated, moving his leg so that he was straddling his lanky waist.

"N-no..." Chase stammered, obviously not realizing that it was a rhetorical question. House ignored him, catching his bottom lip with his teeth again, reopening the semi-healed welt. He could feel Chase trying to pull his arms out of his grasp but to no avail. Grabbing both the wrists in one, he freed his hand, moving Chase's arms above his head.

His free hand ran down the front of the younger's chest until he reached where fabric met skin; he touched the soft flesh lightly, eliciting a pleased reaction from the blonde. Their tongues were dancing together, Chase kissing House awkwardly back as a hand snaked under his shirt, causing him to arch his back into the touch, subconsciously wanting more. Reluctantly, House pulled away, knowing that if he didn't keep pressing for information, it would be too late.

"And...?" House breathed, staring down as he waited for an answer. "What happened next?" Their breath was mingling together from the close proximity; Chase's expression faltered slightly.

"I believed him and... couldn't leave. I pretended like nothing happened, let him do whatever he wanted because... if I hated him that meant that I hated God." His voice got quieter at the end and he looked away, feeling the shame and guilt he had suppressed for seven years resurfacing. This doctor, this basic _stranger_ knew more than anyone else in his life. It was scary, in a sense, having him know all this. But in a way, he felt relief. He was still okay, even though he felt like he couldn't breathe, he was alive.

House stayed silent for a moment, a small sigh escaping him. Unsure what to do with the silence; he connected their lips again, revelling in the softness of Chase's mouth. His hand drifted from the boys' chest down his stomach to the waistband of his jeans, running his fingertips underneath. A soft moan escaped Chase as anticipation and the forbidden pleasure of it all overcame him.

"Can I let go of your hands now?" House asked, raising an eyebrow at the delightfully wanton boy. "Or are you going to fight?" Chase didn't answer verbally, just shook his head and tried to ignore that his cheeks were stained red yet again.

Letting out a low chuckle, House took that as a yes and released the grip he had on Chase's wrists, bringing his other hand to join the party. Suddenly Chase felt House's hands under his shirt again, lifting it over his head in one swift movement. He opened his mouth to protest, but instead, gave a sound of pleasure as the older man's tongue trailed down his chest, leaving a gleaming line of saliva.

House sat up, grasping Chase's shoulders to bring him into a sitting position; leaning in, he nipped at his earlobe, gently pushing Chase off the couch, onto his knees in front of him. A shiver ran down the Aussie's spine as House whispered, "Stay on your knees... It's just like praying..."

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**Ohh, below the belt, House!  
XD  
That was loowwwww.  
But hot, no?  
:3**

**Review, plz or um... Chase will be sad. AND BE FORCED TO SHAVE HIS HAIR!! OMG!  
XD**


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